


An Evening With Miss Melhuish

by WolfieOnAO3



Category: Raffles (TV 1977), Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Gen, Gentlemen and Players, Miss Melhuish - Freeform, Raffles Week 2021, third party view of Raffles and Bunny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfieOnAO3/pseuds/WolfieOnAO3
Summary: Mr. Manders? Why, yes, of course I know him! He was a guest right here at Milchester Abbey, along with me, that very famous week of the robbery...Written for Raffles Week 2021, Prompt "The Women of the Raffles Stories"!
Relationships: Bunny Manders & A. J. Raffles, Bunny Manders/A. J. Raffles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	An Evening With Miss Melhuish

"Mr. Manders? Why, yes, of course I know him! He was a guest right here at Milchester Abbey, along with me, that very famous week of the robbery! We were both there for Crowley’s birthday celebrations — Are you on very good terms with Viscount Crowley? — No, neither am I, really. All I know is that he is a great fanatic for cricket. Though between you and me, and of course I really know very little about it, he is _not_ terribly good at playing the sport, himself. Naturally I know nothing of what goes into making a good cricketer, but when a man fails to hit the balls thrown at him, or to catch any that are hit toward him, or if the man with the bat hits the little red ball every time he throws it... Well, even someone who knows as little as I do can hazard a guess that a man isn’t what one might call a _talent_. Though of course, I don’t mean to be ungracious. There are more important things in life than being a talent at cricket. But when one does insist on going on about it quite so much as Viscount Crowley does, speaking of himself in such high regard—

"But you were asking me about Mr. Manders, were you not? Well, as I said, I met him at that birthday week. I was only asked to make up numbers, just as I was tonight. Not that I mind _that_ , of course. Lord Amersteth is an _awfully_ important man, and so is his son. And my dear papa, wonderful as he is, is only the local rector. Whilst naturally the Lord’s work is more important than any _Lord’s work_ — excuse my little joke — humility is a respectable trait which papa and I both have in abundance, and so I had _never_ expected to receive an invite to Viscount Crowley’s coming of age celebrations at all. Even if I was only invited at the _very_ last minute, and only to make up numbers, I was ever so grateful that they thought of me, so don’t think of me being at all offended. And, don’t you know, I always say that if I can be of use to someone, that is the very highest of honours, don’t you think so, too? Exactly so. So really, being asked because I was _needed_ was much more appealing to me than had they merely asked me for my own sake. It is so _rewarding_ to feel as though one is being helpful, don’t you think? I should much rather be asked to be _useful_ than simply because I had a title and a wealthy father, and someone felt they _ought_ to ask me, don’t you agree?

"Oh, yes, back to Mr. Manders. Yes, I know him. Not well, of course; I had never spoken to him in my life before that week, and after that week was up never did speak to him again. But I did talk with him _a great deal_ whilst we were thrown together; I liked to think we had become rather good friends by the end, even if nothing ever came of it.

"How did I find him? Oh, charming, very charming; I liked him an awful lot, even if he did seem rather distracted. You know, even my most exciting and interesting of stories failed to hold his attention! Oh, but I didn’t _mind_ , of course. I’m not one to mind about such things. Honestly, it only made it all the more rewarding when I did manage to land on a topic which interested him, rather like winning the trust of an especially nervous little cat. 

"And I don’t mean to imply he was anything less than a perfect gentleman. Goodness gracious, far from it! He was very attentive, aside from the fact that his thoughts often seemed to wander — and he always paid me the courtesy of seeming rather embarrassed whenever he had to ask me to repeat my question. A very kind, considerate young man, he seemed to me. And he never interrupted or talked over me once. As a humble rector’s daughter, I am very used to finer people than myself taking liberties and having little interest in what I have to say. Not that I am complaining, of course. I am sure they have far more important, elegant, educated things to think about than to pay heed to anything _I_ might have to say; but still, it really was quite lovely to find a refined, educated gentleman who doesn’t feel the need to constantly lecture one on his own opinions and ideas.

"What did Mr. Manders and I discuss? Oh, all sorts of things. The other guests, the weather, books, the cricket, my papa, the local area, fishing… We discovered a mutual fondness for Gilbert and Sullivan, so we discussed their operettas a great deal. He favoured _The Pirates of Penzance_ , if I recall correctly, whilst I have always best loved _Iolanthe_ — which apparently Mr. Manders’ friend Mr. Raffles was also particularly fond of. ...And _Mr. Raffles_ himself was _certainly_ a topic of discussion which held Mr. Manders’ attention. Mr. Raffles found his way into almost every conversation we had, in fact — I think I learned more about Mr. Raffles by sitting next to Mr. Manders at dinner than I should have done were I seated beside Mr. Raffles himself! 

"That is not to suggest that Mr. Manders commandeered the conversation in _any_ way. He was far too sweet to simply talk and talk of his own interests without prompting. And I must say that that is a remarkably refreshing trait in a young man, and I should encourage all young men to follow his lead in that regard; it really is most agreeable. But what I mean to say is that once I had asked further about Mr. Raffles, and demonstrated that I really was interested in what Mr. Manders had to say, he was _most_ forthcoming about the celebrated cricketer’s virtues.

What did he have to say about him? Oh, only the most positive and charming things! It was awfully sweet, really. You know, I always say that it is far too prevalent in this modern age for people to only gossip and be disparaging of one another. I cannot count the number of times someone has begun speaking to me of this or that _friend_ , only for the conversation to swiftly decline into listing that “friend”’s faults and vices and shortcomings. It really is most distasteful. I simply cannot stand _gossip._ But Mr. Manders was not at all like that; he had only the nicest of praises for his friend! So often one reads of these celebrities in the papers only to find that in their real lives they are the horriblest of brutes who kick puppies and are rude to their peers and cruel to their social inferiors, but according to Mr. Manders, Mr. Raffles was completely deserving of every and all praise given him — and more beside! 

"What did he say, specifically? I thought you were interested in Mr. Manders, not Mr. Raffles? Oh, well, it makes no difference to me, I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to know, gladly. Mr. Manders told me that he had known Mr. Raffles at school. You always know a man has a true understanding of his fellows when they have been at school together, so I trusted what he said all the more after learning that. And going by Mr. Manders’ estimations, Mr. Raffles would hardly have appeared to have a single fault at all! 

"He told me all about how they had known one another at school, as I said, and how Mr. Raffles had been Captain of the First Eleven — apparently a very high honour — and had been about as well-loved as any boy could be. And he told me how they had reunited only that very same spring, in fact! I remember expressing some surprise that they were such _close_ friends after only knowing one another for a few months. I knew they must have been quite unusually close as Mr. Manders had admitted to me that Crowley had only invited him down as a friend of Mr. Raffles, rather than in his own right. I learned later from Lady Margaret, who learned it from Viscount Crowley, that Mr. Raffles had only agreed to come at all if he could bring Mr. Manders as his guest! Can you imagine it? Mr. Raffles clearly must think as highly of Mr. Manders as Mr. Manders does of him. Well, in any case, I thought it was very sweet for Mr. Manders to tell me that he wasn't really wanted there at all, as he really needn’t have admitted that, and clearly only did so to try to make me feel better. He was a _very_ considerate young gentleman.

"Mr. Raffles? Yes, yes, I am getting to it! You are jolly impatient, aren’t you? Not that I mind, of course. It is always pleasant to have someone so keen to listen. Well, if it is Mr. Raffles’ and Mr. Manders’ friendship you wish to hear about, I shall happily oblige. 

"The night that I learned the most about it was on the very night of the great ball itself. Mr. Manders had been kind enough to be my partner for _three_ dances, and later accompanied me to sit out in the garden. I recall that it was a particularly balmy evening, and the gardens were so _very_ pretty, all illuminated and quiet, really it was rather romantic… 

"Well, it was on this particular evening that I had the fortune, for the first and only time, to see Mr. Manders and Mr. Raffles together properly and close at hand; and it really was most intriguing. 

"It began, in fact, with the subject of _burglars_. You look shocked? So did Mr. Manders, the first time I had raised the topic on the very first night at dinner when I feared he was growing bored of my conversation, but he soon became ever so interested. Well, the night of the ball, I raised the matter of the burglars again, and — well, as long as you promise not to repeat this, as it is _dreadfully_ embarrassing, but between you and I, the real reason I brought it up again was in the hope it might spark some masculine protective instinct in him. If I were frightened of burglars, Mr. Manders might make some chivalrous promise to protect me, or something equally romantic! I had spent a good deal of the evening complimenting him on his cricket, and had rather hoped he was warming to me. I was quite the silly young girl, then — _you_ know how young girls can be, I’m sure! And when one is paid such careful attention by such a sweet, sensitive, handsome young man as Mr. Manders…

"Needless to say, I didn’t get the romantic overtures for which I had been hoping. But Mr. Manders’ _actual_ response was _far_ more amusing, and in many regards far more endearing. For rather than simply making some empty, flirtatious promise to protect me from burglars, Mr. Manders instead showed an active interest in me, asking me to _talk more_ about it! He was really keen as anything to hear all I knew about the burglary which was expected to take place. He treated me like quite the expert on it all, and was most eager to hear all of my opinions on the matter. It almost felt as though I were somehow protecting _him_ by sharing my knowledge. I cannot deny I rather liked that. Most novel! 

"Well, to return to Mr. Raffles, it was during the course of this particular conversation about burglars that Mr. Raffles himself appeared on the terrace to light a cigarette. Poor Mr. Manders was taken rather off guard (Mr. Raffles was remarkably light on his feet), and he nearly leapt out of his skin when Mr. Raffles spoke from beside him! I suppose all of our talk of burglars at large had the poor lamb more worried than he pretended. I remember that Mr. Raffles laughed when I made just that comment — though of course I did not include the fact that a burglary was expected that very week! For although the Milchester burglary is terribly well talked about now, before it happened only a _very select few of us_ were privy to the police’s suspicions. I should not have told Mr. Manders, really, but he did seem so very trustworthy, and so terribly _bored_ …

" “Scared of burglars are you, Bunny?” Mr. Raffles said to his friend, and I thought the nickname was rather sweet, and very apt. Mr. Manders was quite bunny-rabbit-like. “That’s no reason to jump at _me_ , dear boy! I promise you, if I take up the notion to burgle anything, you shall be the very first to know. Your pocket-watch is safe!” 

"I laughed behind my glove at this bold, cavalier humour of Mr. Raffles; I may be meek and mouselike myself, but I confess to appreciating a lively and ribald wit in others, especially when it is carried off with such charm. 

"Mr. Manders, however, did not seem to appreciate the joke, glaring absolute _daggers_ at his friend as he spoke! This surprised me, as I had only heard the most glowing praise of Mr. Raffles fall from Mr. Manders’ lips, and yet the first time I had opportunity to see the pair of them properly together, Mr. Manders seemed more prickly than a hedgehog! 

" “I’m not scared of burglars,’ I remember Mr. Manders snapping. “And I didn’t jump at you, I just didn’t expect you to appear out of nowhere quite like that. You could warn a chap, Raffles. You could have been anyone.”

" “Yes,’ Mr. Raffles said with a rather dazzling smile, “I could have been one of Miss Melhuish’s burglars!” 

"Mr. Raffles and I had been introduced earlier in the week, of course, by our mutual friend, Lady Margaret — You know her, of course? Crowley is rather soft on her, I believe — though I hadn’t had opportunity to speak with the gentleman at any great length. He was far too sought after by much more important people than _me_. Still, I have never been one to be intimidated by celebrity. We are all God’s children, after all, and all equal in His eyes.

" “You, Mr. Raffles?” I laughed. “As a burglar?”

" “Of course not,” Mr. Manders cut in. “Please excuse Raffles, Miss Melhuish. He has an — _interesting_ — sense of humour. He forgets himself.”

" “Yes, please do excuse me, Miss Melhuish. I am quite terrible.”

" “Oh, I doubt that, Mr. Raffles. Mr. Manders has told me far too many lovely things about you for me to _ever_ believe you are _terrible_.’

"Mr. Raffles glanced quickly at Mr. Manders with, so I thought, a rather appreciative glint in his lovely grey eyes — but he looked away again just as swiftly when Mr. Manders blushed furiously and took sudden interest in the low wall before us. Some men are so terrible at admitting fondness for one another openly, it really is most immature.

" “Well,’ Mr. Raffles continued, “regardless, I should hate to offend or distress you, Miss Melhuish. Please accept my apologies, if I have done so.”

" “Oh, not at all!” said I. “Not in the least, Mr. Raffles! I may be a rector’s daughter, but I have heard many _shocking_ tales in my time, I can _assure_ you. I’m rather certain that _I_ could scandalise _you_ , if I had a mind to, just with the things I know and have heard! Pray, don’t feel the need to apologise on _my_ behalf. If anything, such teasing rather takes my mind off of the _real_ burglars.”

" “Are there _real_ burglars abroad, Miss Melhuish?” Mr. Raffles asked. He struck me as an awfully shrewd man; in that moment I wished he wasn’t. “Where are they? Not _here_?”

"I realised my mistake too late. “Oh, well, that is to say, they’re — nowhere,” I said.

" “Nowhere?”

" “Miss Melhuish only means that we were discussing burglary in _general_ , Raffles. Real burglars do _exist;_ they don’t have to be standing right in front of us in order to be discussed.”

" “Yes, thank you, Mr. Manders. That is precisely what I meant,” I said, grateful for his ever-so-considerate rescue. He really is a most thoughtful young man, you know. “We were only discussing burglars _generally_ . I’m always rather afraid of burglars. Not for _my_ sake, of course, for I have nothing at all that anyone should like to steal, other than the seed-pearl brooch which my poor little mother left me, and that seems hardly worth the effort for a professional burglar to steal. But for others I do worry considerably, like dear Lady Margaret. I should hate for any tragedy to befall her!” 

"Mr. Raffles puffed on his cigarette before speaking; Mr. Manders had grown quite quiet. “Lady Margaret is a splendid creature, isn’t she? You’re friends?”

" “Oh, I wouldn’t presume so much as to call us _friends_ ,” I said, “but we have known each other since we were children. We are the same age, you know, to the very week! But she is so very much prettier than me, and so very much cleverer. I should never want to be a burden on her by presuming her friendship.”

" “Nonsense,” Mr. Raffles said with a smile — he really was dreadfully charming — “Lady Margaret may be the pinnacle of feminine charm, but you, Miss Melhuish, are in every way her equal. I am sure she is honoured to have you call her your friend — and she has called you as much to me.”

"Now, you say you know Lady Margaret, so I am sure you know just how fine a compliment that was! I was on the very verge of untying my tongue to thank Mr. Raffles for his fine words, when Mr. Manders cut in ahead of me.

" “If Lady Margaret is so splendid,” Mr. Manders said, somewhat peevishly, “then what are you doing out here?”

"I admit I felt rather awkward. It was plain enough that Mr. Manders was quite jealous over Mr. Raffles’ flirtation with me! I wished I could reassure him somehow that I was far more interested in _his_ friendship than that of his famous, charming friend, but there really was no way I could think to do so without at the same time being awfully rude to poor Mr. Raffles, who really wasn’t to know, after all. 

" “Smoking,” Mr. Raffles replied, coolly. “But if you would rather I go—”

" “Oh, I’m sure Mr. Manders didn’t mean anything like that, did you, Mr. Manders?” I cried, eager not to be the source of a rift in a friendship which really sounded so very sweet.

" “Of course I didn’t mean that,” Mr. Manders sighed. “I meant only—”

" “I know what you meant,” Mr. Raffles said. 

" “Do you?” asked Mr. Manders, causing poor Mr. Raffles to all but blush, so chagrined did he look! I suppose Mr. Raffles must have realised that Mr. Manders was alluding to his complimenting me so obviously being in poor taste, given the circumstances, for rather than reply, he immediately changed the subject.

" “Miss Melhuish, have you been enjoying the cricket?” he asked me.

" “Oh, yes,” I rejoined with some eagerness, glad of the opportunity to tide over any awkwardness. “Hasn’t Mr. Manders been playing splendidly? He keeps insisting it’s all luck, but I keep insisting otherwise! As the expert, what is _your_ view, Mr. Raffles?”

"Mr. Raffles took another puff on his cigarette and glanced at Mr. Manders with a small smile, casting a careful look over him. “Certainly not luck, Miss Melhuish. Bunny has been playing magnificently. I believe he has a chronic tendency to underestimate himself — and to underestimate just how highly others regard him.” 

"Mr. Manders continued to take interest in the wall, scratching a small chip of brick against it, creating little white marks on the dark grey stone. 

" “I was telling him just the same thing, Mr. Raffles! Mr. Manders, you really ought to be more complimentary of yourself. You are a wonderful cricketer, and a true gentleman, and you have proven to be a charming companion to me this week, when everyone else would sooner overlook me. I’m sure Mr. Raffles agrees: you are far better than you give yourself credit for.”

" “I do agree,” Mr. Raffles said with sincerity in his tone; and Mr. Manders finally looked up, meeting Mr. Raffles’ eye, a shy smile — a particularly attractive smile, I admit to noticing — crept over his lips. “A truer statement has never been made, Miss Melhuish.” 

"Mr. Raffles had looked at me as he addressed me, but his eyes returned immediately to Mr. Manders once he had spoken, as though, I suppose, he were awaiting Mr. Manders’ apology, or thanks, or some sort of reply, at least. Mr. Manders opted to merely continue staring at his friend; as I say, some men are simply terribly at expressions of fondness, they simply do not know how to properly reply. And so when it became clear that no reply was to be forthcoming, Mr. Raffles stubbed out the remnants of his cigarette with a bright smile at me.

" “Well, I shall leave you both to your conversation about burglars; I am sure your company is far more charming than mine, Miss Melhuish. I am sorry to have intruded.”

"Of course, as far as I was concerned Mr. Raffles had not intruded at all. I was quite interested in getting to know the famous cricketer of whom everyone, Mr. Manders included, spoke so highly. But I did not wish to offend poor, sensitive, sweet Mr. Manders further by saying so. 

" “I am sure Lady Margaret is missing your company,” I said instead, “and Viscount Crowley, and just about everyone else!”

" “I suppose I had best not disappoint them, then,” Mr. Raffles smiled, “much as I might wish to remain in far superior company out here.”

"He really was relentlessly charming; I was beginning to understand why Mr. Raffles had such a reputation for making people fall in love with him! I could certainly now better understand why Mr. Manders so favoured the gentleman. 

"Well, after that Mr. Raffles left us, and for the rest of the evening Mr. Manders was sadly rather more subdued. Even further talk of burglary only mildly attracted his interest, and no matter how prettily I complimented him, I couldn’t seem to do anything to dislodge the pensive cloud that seemed to be hovering about his head. He even realised this himself, apologising profusely for being such bad company. I of course assured him he was anything but, and I meant it. A man who talks too much is far more objectionable than a man who talks too little, don’t you think?

"Oh, no, of course that wasn’t the _only_ time I saw them together that week! They were as thick as thieves (if you will excuse the pun!) quite frequently. That was simply the only time I had the opportunity to speak with them both together. Do you know Mr. Raffles? Only you do seem rather interested in him? — Are you a fan of cricket? No? I only thought— Hm? Oh, no, of course, if your uncle is beckoning you, of course you must go! Please don’t snub him on my account, I’m so far below a Lord it is not even worth stating! — Yes, it has been charming to meet you, too; I do hope we get to speak again, Miss \----------. But I must ask before you go: Does it feel awfully different being the niece of Lord Lochmaben, rather than simply the niece of Mr. Carruthers? I have always wondered whether being a Lord changes a man — Oh! That’s hilarious! And awfully wicked, but of course, I don’t mind about that. You are wonderfully witty; you should meet Mr. Raffles! You remind me of him ever so much, you know!"


End file.
